Battle of Wills
by Dannyblue
Summary: Fourth in the "Mortal Fear" series. Who's in charge anyway? AC


**Title:** Battle of Wills (1/1)  
**Author:** Dannyblue   
**Email:** dannyblue2@yahoo.com  
**Rating:** PG  
**Category:** Humor, Romance  
**Content:** Angel/Cordelia  
**Summary:** Fourth in the "Mortal Fear" series. Another prequal to the first story. Who's in charge anyway?  
**Spoilers:** None. (And Connor seems to have mysteriously disappeared.)  
**Disclaimer:** The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.  
**Distribution:** All you have to do is ask.  
  


   
  
  
  
"I really don't think I need to go," Angel said again. His left arm wrapped securely around Cordelia's ample waist, his right hand keeping a steadying hold on her arm, he steered her towards the sofa. "Gunn and Wesley can handle this one on their own."  
  
"I don't think so," Cordy disagreed. She shook her head. "There were at least a dozen demons in my vision. You guys need all the muscle you can get."  
  
Subtly, as if Angel wouldn't notice, she tried to speed up a little. Angel, just as subtly, used his superior vampire strength to hold her to a slow, steady, safe waddle. He felt a small measure of triumph when she sighed in defeat and let him set the pace. So what if it took 15 minutes to walk across the lobby. Those fifteen careful minutes meant there was less chance of her falling. And, hey, she was the one who said her stomach was now so big, she felt like she was going to tip over whenever she was on her feet. Yeah, she was just joking, but still...  
  
Anyway, in Angel's opinion, women who were over nine months pregnant--especially when they were his wife and pregnant with his kid--shouldn't be moving around at all. They should be in bed, being waited on hand and foot. But Cordelia insisted on getting up and moving around every day. And the doctor insisted it was good for her. Who was he to argue?  
  
"We've dealt with grintocs before," Angel said. He gave the side of her belly a gentle, reassuring pat. "I'm sure the guys can handle it."  
  
"Yeah, Barbie," Gunn said confidently. "We've got it covered."  
  
Pleased that someone was backing him up, Angel sent the black man a smile bright enough to rival one of Cordy's thousand watters. It was a sight so rare, so unexpected, Charles Gunn seemed to be stunned by it. Fred, who was standing next to him, gasped, a look of wonder and awe taking over her face. Seemingly off balance, she leaned against the check-in counter for support.  
  
"Actually," Wesley said, too lost in thought to have seen The Smile, "grintoc are quite formidable, and very dangerous. I think..."  
  
Angel's head whipped around so fast, you could almost hear the air snap in its wake. He pinned the Englishmen with a glare cold enough to freeze lava, hot enough to burn a hole through steel. As the vampire's eyes flashed amber, the color drained from Wesley's face. A visible shudder worked it's way through his body.  
  
"...that Charles is correct," Wesley smoothly continued, voice shaking only a little. He cleared his suddenly dry throat. "He and I shouldn't have too much difficulty handling this situation on our own."  
  
With a nod of satisfaction, Angel turned away from the former Watcher...only to find his wife giving him a chiding look.  
  
"Angel!" she scolded as they finally reached the sofa. "Stop trying to intimidate Wesley."  
  
"Trying?" Gunn scoffed.  
  
"Wait a minute," Wesley sputtered. "I wasn't..."  
  
"What?" Angel denied, trying to sound both insulted and innocent. Turning her to face him, he took her upper arms and slowly ease her into a sitting position. After months of practice, he had it down to an art form. "I didn't do anything!"  
  
"You so did." With a sigh, Cordy settled back into the cushions. "And it isn't going to work because you're going."  
  
Straightening up, Angel folded his arms. Towering over her, he glowered, determined to let her know he meant business. His wife, busy trying to find a comfortable position, barely seemed to notice.   
  
"And stop pouting."   
  
Okay, she noticed. But pouting? How could she call the look that filled even the most deadly of demons with fear, with dread, pouting?  
  
Shaking his head, Angel decided enough was enough. It was time to take a stand. To be firm. To hold his ground. To take control.  
  
"Cordelia, you're overdue. You could go into labor at any time. There's no way I'm leaving you!"  
  
Cordelia looked up at him, her face a calm, serene mask. "Yes, I'm overdue. But I'm not going to go into labor the minute you walk out the door, Angel."  
  
"You can't know..."  
  
"Yes, I can. Call it women's intuition. I just know it's not going to happen tonight. Besides, the nest isn't far away. You could get there, slice those grintoc into demon kibble--" she snapped her fingers "--like _that_, and be back home, all in less than an hour." She folded hands atop her rounded belly and took a deep breath. "Of course, if you insist on not going, there isn't much I can do about it." Her hazel eyes glowed with a devilish light. "Except maybe forget to mention when the doctor says it's okay for us to resume our normal, you know, husband-wife relations."   
  
As the threat hit its mark, Angel's unbeating heart sank. His eyes widened with donning horror. His mouth dropped open in silent protest. She wouldn't...She couldn't...  
  
Behind him, Wesley cleared his throat again, this time in embarrassment. Fred tried to stifle giggle. Gunn just chuckled outright.  
  
"But if you still want to be stubborn about it, like I said, not much I can do." Cordy shrugged casually before glancing down at her fingernails. "I'll just get Fred to give me a manicure. That might keep me from worrying too much while Gunn and Wesley are gone. After all, the doctor said worrying isn't good for the baby. Then, if--I mean _when_--they get back, and I still haven't gone into labor, I won't say 'I told you so.' I won't even think it too loud. Okay?"  
  
Silence descended on the lobby of Angel Investigations. Eyes glued to their employer, Wesley, Gunn and Fred held their collective breaths, waiting to see what he was going to do.  
  
_Take a stand,_ Angel's inner voice demanded. _Be firm,_ it continued, and Angel nodded decisively. _Take control. Don't look into her eyes. Don't look into her..._  
  
He looked into her eyes. And they were filled with love, and trust, and determination. With the knowledge that he would do the right thing.   
  
As his insides melted, Angel's shoulders drooped in defeat. "Where's my cell phone?"  
  
"Like there was any doubt," Wesley mumbled, almost too low for even vampire hearing to detect.  
  
"Whipped," Gunn muttered. Or maybe he said, 'wimp'. Either way, Angel felt his soft growl was justified.  
  
"Here Angel," Fred piped up. She grabbed his cell phone from the check-in counter. "Charged up and ready to go." She all but skipped over to the coat wrack. Grabbing a black duster, she brought it over to her boss.  
  
His movements angry and sharp, Angel put on the coat, stuffed the phone into one of the inner pockets.  
  
"You're pouting again," Cordy said, sounding amused.  
  
"I am not," Angel denied. And he wasn't whining either.  
  
"You're cute when you pout."  
  
Those five little words made any anger Angel was feeling vanish. Glancing down, he was captivated by her gentle, loving smile. So much so, he couldn't help returning it.  
  
Wesley and Gunn, knowing what was coming next, started for the door. As they left the hotel, Angel could hear Wes mumbling, "He _knows_ he's going to give in to her. Why he insists on wasting time..."  
  
Ignoring the angry mutterings, Angel leaned down, one hand on the back of the sofa. As he pressed his lips to Cordelia's, and that familiar warm, light-headed feeling came over him, he was glad he didn't need the doctors permission to do _this_ at least.  
  
Angel finally pulled away, staying close enough so that their noses were still touching.   
  
"I'll be right back," he promised.  
  
"You better be," Cordy said, the first indication that she wasn't quite as eager for him to leave as she'd seemed. She rested her hand against his cheek. "And be careful."  
  
"You know me."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Rolling his eyes--because he did _not_ get hurt on every case, as some very beautiful, very pregnant people claimed--he rested his hand against her belly. "Don't do anything until I get back."  
  
"We wouldn't dare," Cordy said solemnly. Then, her voice became cheerful. "Now go on. Demons to kill, people to save."  
  
With a reluctant nod, Angel straightened up. Giving his wife, and her impressively big stomach, one more worried glance, he forced himself to move. As he passed a grinning, dewy-eyed Fred, he said, "Call me if anything..."  
  
"I will," the physicist promised.  
  
As he walked out the door, Angel wondered what the record was for destroying a nest of grintoc. And if he'd win a prize when he broke it.  
  
  
  
**THE END**


End file.
